


The World May Never Know

by SadieYuki



Series: Sorry, Not Sorry (Maybe a Little) [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, 5:1, Academy Era, Gen, Mckirk Mini Bang 2016, Tarsus IV, brief mention of a potential eating disorder, five things, mention of suicidal thoughts, non-graphic past torture of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6453964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieYuki/pseuds/SadieYuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many lies does it take to get to the center of a Jim Kirk?</p><p>Or, five times Jim Kirk hid the truth from Leonard McCoy, and one time he finally opened up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> This fic was written for the Mckirk Mini Bang, but it is also considered the prequel to the _Sorry, Not Sorry_ series. This can be read as a standalone, but if you'd like to continue on to the other fics in the series, be my guest!
> 
> Written for [lovelyspaceprince's](http://lovelyspaceprince.tumblr.com/) prompt: _Tarsus!Jim. Anything with Bones finding out and/or dealing with Jim's history on Tarsus. Can include food hoarding, panic attacks, trust issues - anything you want, go wild. The more hurt/comfort-y, the better. <3_
> 
> I posted this all in one go because the entire fic was posted on Tumblr for Star Trek Day, so unless there are specific chapter comments from me (and there are), I'll see you at the end of the fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I already have a primary care doctor.”

“It’s standard procedure—”

“I don’t _need_ a new doctor!”

“As a cadet, you’ll need a doctor that’s an active member of Starfleet—”

“He _is,_ if you’d just look him up, it’s Dr. B—”

“Cadet, you’re holding up the line, I must insist...”

Leonard finished up his own intake form (and wasn’t it a shame that he couldn’t list himself) just as the kid from the shuttle—Jim Kirk, also his new roommate apparently—really started getting into a row with his intake officer. Leonard felt for the officer; he had to deal with dozens of new cadets all morning, and it probably wasn’t his first choice of activity.

However, he wasn’t letting Kirk get a word in, and when it came to medical information, the officer shouldn’t be as dismissive as he was currently being. While Kirk was clearly displaying his anger in an attempt to get his way, Leonard could also see panic start to leach into his posture and speech, nervous energy rolling off him in waves. He was about to step in when—

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Dr. Philip Boyce, the lead doctor overseeing medical intake, seemed to have noticed the commotion and had come over to investigate.

Surprisingly, Kirk looked significantly relieved to see him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the intake officer once again cut him off. “Cadet Kirk refuses to sign for a primary care doctor—”

“I already _have_ one,” Kirk interrupted angrily, glaring at the officer before turning an almost pleading look on the doctor.

“You can’t—”

“That’s enough, Ensign,” Dr. Boyce said, and the officer’s mouth clicked shut. He turned his attention back to Kirk. “I won’t usually be on campus. You’d have to travel across the bay for physicals, most of my shifts are at Starfleet Medical.”

“That’s fine,” Kirk agreed quickly.

“You sure?” Dr. Boyce asked, raising a brow. “It might be more convenient to—”

“You already know everything. I’d rather—” Kirk took a quick breath. “I’d rather just stick with you.”

“Okay, Jimmy.”

“Jim,” Kirk said, a playful grin on his face.

“All grown up, are you? I sure am old...” Dr. Boyce said fondly. “Ensign, please have me listed as Cadet Kirk’s primary care doctor.”

“Uh, y-yes, Sir,” the officer stammered.

“Chris will be surprised you joined Starfleet,” Dr. Boyce said, giving Kirk a grin as the officer worked on changing the form

“Probably not. He recruited me,” Kirk said wryly.

“And he didn’t tell me!” Dr. Boyce lamented.

“I mean, it only happened last night, so...”

“Well, alright then,” he grumbled, still giving Kirk a smile. “I must get back to processing you upstarts, but don’t be a stranger.”

“Thanks, Dr. Boyce,” Kirk nodded. As Dr. Boyce disappeared from view, Kirk finally signed his intake form, then sneered at the officer before making his way past the remaining line of cadets and out of the room. Leonard started to follow him.

“That was a process,” Leonard said lightly as he caught up.

Kirk snorted. “A shit show,” he corrected.

“How’d you already have a Starfleet doctor as a primary?” he asked curiously, though he regretted asking when Kirk actually stopped walking, body tense.

“He treated me when I was a kid,” Kirk said after a prolonged silence. “My mom’s Starfleet, and Boyce was there when I needed treatment, so...it just worked out. He already knows my medical history, so it made sense to keep him if I could.”

“Makes sense,” Leonard agreed. “But you might be underestimating the hassle of him being off site.”

“I think _you_ might be underestimating my allergy list,” Kirk smirked, though it was clear he wasn’t giving Leonard the whole story.

“Allergies, huh?” Leonard said, letting it slide. Medical history was private, he respected that. He was curious as hell, but decided not to dig. “What should I avoid bringing into our room then?”

“I can’t tell if you’re being considerate or if you’re trying to find a way to kill me in my sleep,” Kirk joked.

“Definitely the first, the latter might violate the whole ‘do no harm’ thing.”

“Right, you’re a doctor,” Kirk said, and Leonard noticed that he had taken on a wary look. “What _is_ your stance on ‘do no harm’?”

Leonard blinked, visibly taken aback by the question. ‘Do no harm’ in itself was very self-explanatory, but Kirk seemed to be looking for more. “‘Do no harm’ means that you never willingly or knowingly do harm to another being,” Leonard said, and he noted that Kirk looked a bit put out by this answer. He decided to expand, “It also means not to leave someone harmed. Leaving someone in pain when you have a means to fix it is just as bad as inflicting it in the first place.”

It was as though Leonard had passed a test as Kirk let the tension in his shoulders go, and he gave Leonard a nod.

As days went on, Leonard would learn that Kirk—Jim was very distrustful of doctors in general, himself and Dr. Boyce being the exception. Jim’s hesitancy extended so far that when he was injured, he refused to be seen by anyone other than the pair of them. As such, Leonard found their dorm room turned into a mini-clinic. Though Jim’s bar-fighting days had come to an end, Jim never skimped on the chance to go extra hard in a hand-to-hand spar or other physical training.

It worried Leonard, Jim’s reluctance to accept medical care from unknown doctors. He wondered why he and Boyce had somehow passed muster—he suspected it had to do with his ‘do no harm’ question—and why no other doctors had.

He wondered what had happened to Jim that made him distrust doctors so significantly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Brief mention of a possible eating disorder in this chapter)

Fresh off a grueling midterm, Leonard decided to treat himself to a rack of ribs at lunch. He may have gotten a bit overzealous in his need for comfort food, also piling his tray with cornbread, mac and cheese, and peach cobbler for dessert, but he definitely deserved it.

Jim was coming from his own exam, though he had started later and told Leonard not to wait to start lunch. As such, Leonard was already done with his ribs, cornbread, and mac and cheese, and had started on his peach cobbler by the time Jim sat down with a tray of a meal-sized mac and cheese of his own.

“I take it your exam was rough,” Jim said, eyeing Leonard’s tray.

“Hell if I know why they want doctors taking diplomacy classes,” he grumbled.

“Maybe they think it’ll help your bedside manner,” Jim said, grinning when Leonard snorted. “But seriously, you’ve gotta be able to deal with other cultures, some might have weird definitions of medicine. Hell, some don’t like doctors at all. Look at the Klingons,” Jim said, waving a hand idly.

Leave it to Jim to be the surprising voice of reason.

Leonard hummed in vague agreement as he swallowed his last bit of cobbler. With no other obligations until his shift in several hours, he shoved his tray to the side and pulled out his PADD, intending to get some work done while Jim finished his own meal.

“You’re not done,” Jim said, voice thick with incredulity.

Leonard looked up and saw Jim’s shocked face locked on the discarded tray. “Uh, yeah, I am,” he drawled.

“But...there’s so much food left,” Jim continued, gaze not leaving the tray.

Leonard looked himself, wondering if maybe he’d forgotten to eat one of the cornbread pieces in his haste to get to the cobbler, but all he saw was a tray filled with scraps and crumbs. Little bits of cornbread that were too much of a hassle to attempt to scoop up, a stray piece of noodle left in melted cheese, peach sauce and crust crumbs, and little bits of meat still stuck to the bone that weren’t worth the extra effort. By all means, Leonard had completed the meal, and yet—

“There’s nothing left, Jim,” Leonard said, looking back at him.

Jim made a small, almost wounded, sound in the back of his throat. “Can I at least finish it off?”

“There’s only scraps, kid, and you’ve still got all that mac and cheese—”

“If you’re just gonna throw it away, what’s it to you?” he snapped.

“What’s it to _you_ if I don’t lick my plate clean?” Leonard snapped back, starting to get miffed with Jim’s attitude.

“It’s _wasteful,_ you shouldn’t be throwing away perfectly good food—”

“It’s _scraps,_ it’s—” Leonard cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. This wasn’t worth getting worked up over. “Fine, whatever, knock yourself out.”

Not needing to be told twice, Jim reached over and snatched the tray, dragging it towards his own with a slight screech on the table.

As Jim scraped the cornbread crumbs onto his mac and cheese, Leonard mused that this wasn’t the first time Jim had been sensitive over food. There had been several instances where Jim had eaten expired food in their fridge rather than throw it out. At the time, Leonard thought he was just being a stubborn, drunk moron. On one particular occasion, Jim had flipped when he tried to throw out a two-week-old takeout container, and had snatched it out of his grasp, eating the old food straight out of the box with his hands. Leonard had thought Jim was just being a brat at the time, but looking back, he noted that Jim had had a slight look of desperation on his face.

Other minor things included Jim always requesting a to-go box at restaurants and boxing his and Leonard’s meals, regardless of the amount and even if Leonard hadn’t asked, and stashing snacks like granola and ration bars everywhere in their room.

And yet, despite Jim’s sensitivity to food, there were several times where Jim had to be reminded to eat. Sure, skipping breakfast was almost a college tradition—most students valued sleep or study time over a nice cooked breakfast meal—but usually some sort of snack replaced the need. But often times, Jim forgot to eat lunch and dinner, too. The doctor within him first thought Jim might have an eating disorder, but when confronted about his meal-forgetfulness, he looked genuinely unaware of his tendency to miss meals.

 _“Sorry, Bones, I wasn’t hungry so I just forgot,”_ Jim had shrugged sheepishly.

To put it simply, it never seemed to bother Jim if he didn’t have food, but when he _did_ have it, he was _very_ aware of it.

“—irk to McCoy!”

Leonard snapped out of his thoughts to the view of Jim’s fingers actually snapping in front of his face. “Sorry, what?” he said dumbly.

“And you call _me_ scatterbrained,” Jim grinned jovially, rib sticking out of his mouth like a lollipop stick.

Distracted, Leonard was unable to come up with a snap retort and settled with a glare before returning to his PADD. As Jim chuckled and focused back on his food, Leonard marveled at how quickly Jim was able to move past an argument. It was refreshing, but it also made him reluctant to bring up the food issue and ruin Jim’s good mood.

Leonard decided to drop it. He was sure there would be other opportunities.


	3. Chapter 3

In the world of higher education, there were two kinds of guest lectures: those the class would be tested on, and those the class would not be tested on. The latter was infinitely better than the former, and Leonard was supremely glad that the string of guest lectures on the schedule fell into that category.

Starfleet 101 was a required course for every cadet, and Leonard was glad to be sharing the class with Jim. With vastly different career tracks, it was one of the few. Though it wasn’t really the type of class that required critical thinking, it was inherently fact-based, so he didn’t usually get a chance to see Jim’s mind at work.

Until the class reached their ‘Functions of Starfleet’ unit.

Rather than the class standard of taking notes off of robotic and monotonous presentations, the instructor had chosen to have a slew of guest lectures from throughout the fleet come in speak to each topic. Commanders, captains, and even admirals had come to class to discuss topics like peacekeeping, first contacts, research, exploration, and more.

Jim thrived during these lectures. He asked intelligent and thought-provoking questions that often times evolved into a candid discussion between Jim and the presenter. Normally their instructor might try to rein him in, but his questions and the resulting discussions were giving the class an invaluable lecture experience, so he decided to just let it happen.

The last guest speaker for the unit was Rear Admiral (LH) Robert April, who would be speaking on disaster response and relief. Leonard was particularly looking forward to this lecture, specifically the relief portion as that probably had the most to do with his medical career (beyond the obvious role of medical service to the fleet itself, which had already been covered by the Starfleet Surgeon General herself). He was also looking forward to whatever questions Jim would come up with today.

When Leonard arrived to class, he found Jim sitting at his usual spot, end of the fourth row, closest to the door. What wasn’t usual was Jim’s posture. Rather than having his PADD propped on his thigh as he leaned back in his seat with one ankle rested on the opposite knee, Jim had his PADD flat on the desk, with his head cradled in both hands.

“Long night?” Leonard asked as he sat down. He’d had an overnight shift the night before, so he hadn’t seen Jim since dinner the day before.

Jim grunted, hands gripping his hair quickly before falling from his head. As he leaned back in his seat, Leonard noted Jim looked paler than normal, there were bags under his eyes that concealer had failed to completely hide, and his eyes looked red in fatigue.

“Did you sleep at all?” Leonard asked, now concerned by the state Jim was in. While it wasn’t new for Jim to stay up late working, he was usually a bit more meticulous with his morning regimen to hide such habits.

“A bit,” he said, letting out a large sigh. Leonard didn’t buy it.

“You gotta sleep, kid, homework isn’t worth sacrificing that much sleep over.”

“Right,” he nodded, staring forward into nothing. Leonard gave pause at Jim’s tone. Maybe homework wasn’t the problem—

“Alright, let’s get started,” Commander Hennessey called, bringing the class to order. Looking to the front of the room, Leonard noticed an unfamiliar man standing next to their instructor. Noting the rank bands, he deduced that this was their guest lecturer, Robert April. “Today’s topic, Disaster Relief and Response, will be presented by Admiral Robert April. Admiral April was a starship captain for twenty years, serving aboard the _USS Tiberius_ and then the _USS Enterprise_ that has now been decommissioned—”

“To give her name to a bigger and better ship,” April interrupted good-naturedly, drawing a chuckle from the class.

Hennessey nodded with an indulging smile and continued the introduction. “Aboard the _Enterprise,_ Admiral April served as captain when the ship was called to aid in the Tarsus IV disaster. Admiral April will be speaking on fleet-wide disaster relief and response, as well as his experience with Tarsus IV. Admiral, the floor is yours.”

“Thank you, Commander,” April nodded, stepping forward. “I’ll start with the old adage ‘Prepare for the worst and hope for the best.’ As much as we may try to prepare for the worst, there will always be events that are unprecedented. Events we thought could never possibly happen. Events that are worse than whatever we thought the worst could be. The disasters the Federation experience are often things we could have prevented, though hindsight is of course 20/20. At the time, we think we have every contingency covered, until things happen to prove us wrong...”

As the lecture continued, Leonard became more and more aware of Jim’s silence. Jim usually had asked a question by now, and yet it was fifteen minutes in and he hadn’t said a word. Glancing to his right, Leonard saw that Jim wasn’t even looking at April. His eyes were almost glazed over, staring at the blank spot of floor between April and the first row of cadets.

Leonard wasn’t the only one who noticed Jim’s silence. Other cadets were starting to glance back at them, and even Hennessey looked their way a couple times. Leonard leaned over to nudge Jim discreetly, wondering if he was daydreaming through the lecture, but Jim promptly muttered, “I’m listening, Bones.”

Leonard frowned but otherwise left him alone.

April’s talk began to shift to personal experience, the highlight of the lecture, his experience on Tarsus IV, and Leonard would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to April’s account. At the time of the event, Leonard had been nineteen years old, well into his undergraduate studies at Ole Miss and definitely of an age where he thoroughly retained the memories of the disaster that happened and the media coverage it had been given for weeks following the break of the event.

Though as heavily as the Tarsus IV Massacre had been covered in the press, there was relatively little information on the background, on the events that led to the massacre. Most coverage focused on the fallout and criticisms of Starfleet’s role (or lack thereof) in the event. It would be interesting to hear what happened from a Starfleet officer, someone who had actually interacted with survivors.

To Leonard's initial disappointment, April’s comments on Tarsus IV were fairly academic and removed, lacking his personal flare on the event. This was definitely when Jim would usually hop in with questions to draw out more information, but he remained silent, staring into nothing.

The topic was interesting enough that the rest of the class filled in with their own questions, and in his responses, April began to open up with his experiences.

“How much did you know about the massacre when you arrived to the colony?” a cadet near the front of the room asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” April answered candidly. “We received word of the crop failure and resultant famine, but nothing of the extremes the colony had gone through. En route to the colony, we were under the impression that we’d be arriving with relief just as the emergency stores were set to run out of food.”

“What was it like, arriving and finding out what had happened?” another cadet asked.

“We certainly didn’t get the reception we were expecting,” April admitted with a humorless chuckle. “But it wasn’t necessarily outside of the norm. When relief is requested of you, normally you’d expect those asking for relief to be welcoming of said aid. However, since the request, you can have shifts in leadership, civil unrest, anything that could change the situation from the initial relief request. In the case of Tarsus IV, the person who initially requested aid was no longer in power when we arrived, but there had been no indication of unrest previously, so we weren’t expecting resistance when we got there.”

“So Kodos wasn’t actually the governor when things started to go bad?”

“No, that was Governor Augustus Tanebin. He was forced out of power after the relief call had been made. It’s likely he hadn’t told the leadership council about this call, otherwise Kodos probably would’ve tried to retract it.”

“Could he do that?”

“No,” April shook his head. “A regulation that was put in place due to civil unrest in Federation colonies would’ve prevented that. Once a call for relief has been placed, Starfleet is obligated to respond, even if the need is no longer there. But just because the regulation is there, that doesn’t mean Kodos wouldn’t have tried, and that would’ve been a significant indicator that something was wrong. What we later learned was that Kodos had actually told the colonists that _he_ had requested aid, though he never actually made the call.”

“So what happened when you arrived?”

“We tried to establish contact with the surface but no one answered our hails. Then we tried to contact Tanebin’s private channel, and still no response. That’s when we started to realize something was very wrong beyond the food shortage. We beamed down to the surface with a security team and immediately came under fire, however Kodos’s security forces were not trained to handle an organized resistance such as one from Starfleet officers. Most of them surrendered quickly. There _were_ several loyalists who continued to fight back through guerrilla warfare, but we were able to deal with them eventually.”

“How did hostile forces affect medical aid to the survivors?” Leonard asked.

“Well, to tell the truth, the need for medical aid was surprisingly minimal,” April revealed. “The colonists, while mildly malnourished, were in decent condition and didn’t need much treatment. Most medical efforts were focused on the massacre survivors, who had been in hiding for over two months by the time Starfleet arrived.”

“How’d you find the survivors if they were in hiding?”

Here, April paused, taking a deep breath as he surveyed the room of cadets. He paused for half a second on Jim before continuing his sweep with a slight frown. Leonard glanced at Jim, whose head was now resting in one hand as he stared a hole through his desk. Leonard hoped the Admiral didn’t find Jim’s exhausted posture to be disrespectful.

“We didn’t find the survivors on our own,” April said finally. “My first officer led a team to scout Kodos’s compound, and during that sweep, he found a prisoner. This person was one of the survivors and in fact the leader of their group, and had been captured and interrogated.”

“On what?”

“The location of the other survivors. You see, Kodos _was_ planning on eventually calling for aid, but he refused to do so until only his hand-picked colonists remained. Once rescued, the captured leader was able to tell us where the rest of the survivors were. We arrived at their camp just in time; many were suffering from severe malnutrition, and one even had a burn that had developed a nasty infection.”

“They’re the Tarsus Nine,” someone said unnecessarily, and April just nodded his head in confirmation.

“Whose identities to this day are considered highly classified by Starfleet as they are the only ones who can testify against Kodos should the need arise,” April elaborated. “As you all know, while it is believed that Kodos committed suicide before he could be apprehended, there has never been any hard evidence to support this theory.”

As the lecture wrapped up, Commander Hennessey thanked the Admiral for speaking and thanked the class for their participation. Just as he dismissed the class however, he added, “Cadet Kirk, a word, please.”

Leonard shot Jim a concerned look, but he just sighed heavily and nodded once before mechanically grabbing his PADD and walking to the front of the room.

The class, minus Leonard, who hovered by the door to wait for Jim, had filed out of the room by the time Jim made it to Hennessey.

“Cadet Kirk, would you care to explain your lack of attentiveness during today’s lecture?”

“I was paying attention, sir,” Jim replied flatly.

“And yet you didn’t ask a single question.”

“I didn’t have any questions, sir.”

“Commander, if I may?” April interrupted, stepping up to the pair. Leonard’s stomach dropped. He really hoped Jim wasn’t about to get chewed out by an admiral.

“By all means,” Hennessey nodded, moving away from the pair to clean up his belongings, no doubt assuming April would handle the reprimand.

“At ease, Jimmy,” April said, surprising Leonard with his familiarity. He was the second person Leonard had ever heard refer to Jim as ‘Jimmy.’

“Just Jim now, sir,” Jim said respectfully.

“Not ‘just Jim,’ cadet now,” April said, giving him a knowing look. “The one thing you swore to me you would never be.”

“Things change,” Jim allowed, twisting his lips. “And I’d really appreciate if you skipped the ‘I told you so.’”

April chuckled, “Alright.” He heaved a deep sigh before asking, “How’re you holding up?”

Jim shrugged, expression falling a bit. “As well as expected,” he answered after a moment.

“You look it,” April said, giving him a critical gaze.

Jim snorted lightly. “I’m sure.”

April glanced towards Hennessey before dropping his voice, soft enough that Leonard couldn’t make out his next words. Jim shrugged again and responded just as quietly. April said something else and Jim gave him a small, grateful nod before turning and walking towards Leonard and the door. Leonard saw April start speaking to Hennessey just as Jim reached him.

“You didn’t have to wait,” Jim said, following him into the hallway.

“Only thing waiting for me is a replicated chicken salad,” Leonard said, hanging back half a second so Jim could fall in step next to him. “You didn’t say you know April.”

“Yeah...” Jim said, voice tightening a bit in caution. “He was my mom’s CO at one point.”

“Uh huh...” Leonard drawled, already knowing there was more to the story. “And did he make it a point to know the family members of all his subs?”

“No, the situation just came up that we happened to meet,” Jim shrugged, though Leonard could tell he was still tense. “I was only around for a few weeks and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Dr. Boyce was on the same crew, wasn’t he?” Leonard said in realization. Jim nodded wordlessly. “That’s all you’re gonna give me, isn’t it?” Jim nodded again, this time sending him a smirk. “I’ll get the full story someday,” Leonard grumbled dramatically.

He wasn’t expecting the considering look Jim gave him. “Maybe you will,” Jim said after a beat, sounding surprised by his own admission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: George Kirk was April's first officer in the original timeline, and was eventually succeeded by Pike. I like to think the change in command happened as a result of Tarsus IV and George electing to spend more time at home with his family (and traumatized son), but that's just me :)
> 
> I realize Robert April was a Commodore/Ambassador-at-Large after his captaincy in TOS (TAS technically), but with the changes in the timeline, I'm choosing to say that his career took a different path and he ended up as an Admiral (also ignoring what the AOS comics chose to do with his character). The (LH) I put after "Rear Admiral" in the fic denotes "Rear Admiral Lower Half" as there are two ranks of Rear Admiral in the US Navy and I'm choosing to carry over that rank system here. Another note about April: his years of service are accurate to Trek canon; he served as Captain on the _USS Tiberius_ for 15 years then was on the _USS Enterprise_ for 5 years.
> 
> Finally, if you were curious about the conversation April and Jim had that Leonard couldn't hear:
> 
> _"You knew what I'd be lecturing on, why put yourself through this?"_
> 
> _"It was easier than trying to explain why I was skipping class."_
> 
> _"I'll talk to your instructor about today, and I'll keep it discreet, he doesn't need to know anything. Let me know if you need anything, Jim."_


	4. Chapter 4

Most of Leonard’s medical shifts were at the Academy clinic. This was largely due to the fact that Leonard was a cadet himself, though at least he was treated like the fully licensed doctor he was. Being a cadet actually worked in his favor; they usually tried to schedule his shifts with his class requirements in mind. On occasion however, he was asked to cover shifts at Starfleet Medical across the bay due to his experience as a trauma surgeon. These shifts didn’t have the flexibility the clinic had, so he often found himself on late night shifts in these cases.

Despite the late hours, Leonard typically preferred these shifts to the Academy shifts. Starfleet Medical was much more fast-paced, and there were far less incidences of idiotic cadets coming in because of their own stupidity (because balancing a soldering iron on your finger is an A+ choice of recreation).

As much as Leonard enjoyed these spare late shifts, reality did tend to come crashing down on the way home. Even though Leonard was just getting off a shift at 0300, he was still expected to show up to his 0800 lecture, and it didn’t help that this was his second night shift in a row. He fully planned on taking as short of a sonic shower as he could manage before collapsing into bed as soon as possible.

He got back to his dorm by 0341, careful to keep the noise down lest he wake Jim. As the door closed behind him, he glanced towards Jim’s bed to make sure he was still asleep, and what he saw actually drew a smile from him.

Jim was curled into a tight ball, back to the wall and blanket bunched in both hands by his face. Thinking about it, Leonard realized that this was the first time he had ever seen him sleeping. The only other times Leonard had night shifts, they either lasted the whole night, or Jim was somehow still awake when he got home. And otherwise, Jim usually went to sleep at the same time as him or later, and always woke up first.

Leonard was glad Jim was getting some sleep. He looked half-dead during April’s lecture that morning, so hopefully the rest would get some life back in him. Still smiling at the childish image Jim presented, he continued to the bathroom to take his lightning sonic shower.

A couple minutes later, he emerged ‘refreshed’ and ready to retire. He glanced towards Jim, and sure enough he was still curled in a ball on his bed. He smiled again, marveling at the image—

Maybe it wasn’t so innocent. As Leonard stared, he realized Jim was gripping the sheet with white knuckles, brow creased and eyes shut tight. Upon further inspection, Leonard noticed he was actually shaking under the blanket.

Jim wasn’t sleeping soundly at all. He was having a nightmare.

What got to Leonard was that Jim wasn’t making a sound. There wasn’t a single non-visual indicator that he was having a nightmare. No rapid breathing, no tossing and turning to rustle the sheets, no moans, whispers, or otherwise vocal signs of distress. Just how often did Jim suffer in silence from these nightmares? How often had Leonard slept through the night, blissfully unaware of Jim’s turmoil? How often were Jim’s sleepless nights attributed to nightmares rather than an excess workload like he claimed?

What had happened to Jim to cause these nightmares in the first place?

Leonard was at a loss of what to do. With the steps Jim had taken to hide his nightmares, would he prefer to keep him ‘oblivious’? Should he wake him up and risk making the situation worse?

The sound of whimpering brought him out of his thoughts. Leonard looked at Jim again and found that his face was scrunched up tight, almost as if in pain. When he caught sight of tears on Jim’s face, he decided enough was enough. He needed to wake him up, consequences be damned.

Leonard approached the bed cautiously, still unsure of how exactly to wake him. “Jim?” he tried quietly, to no avail. “Jim?” a little louder, but still not enough. Leonard rested a hand on Jim’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake, “Jim.” He tried again, this time with a harder shove, “Jim—”

In one violent moment, Jim’s eyes snapped open as his arms flailed outward, hands still curled in fists. One of them caught him squarely in the chest, and he stumbled back with a pained grunt. Jim scrambled backwards, head colliding with the wall with a hard _thunk_ in his haste.

Leonard rubbed at the surely forming bruise on his pectoral. “Jesus, Jim—”

“Get away from me!” Jim screamed. His eyes were wide in fright, body pressed as close to the wall as physically possible with his arms raised defensively in front of him. It was clear that he hadn’t fully escaped his dream yet.

“Jim, it’s me, it’s Bones,” Leonard said placatingly, shifting his stance to look as nonthreatening as possible. “You’re safe, I promise. Lights: fifty percent,” he added quickly to add some light to the room.

Jim’s eyes hadn’t left him, but now he squinted a bit, as if trying to place him. Finally, Jim saw what he was looking for and he let his eyes close in relief, slumping against the wall. “Bones,” he breathed.

“Yeah, kid, it’s me,” Leonard confirmed, relaxing now that Jim seemed to be back in his right mind.

Jim dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing his face furiously before pressing his palms into his eyes. “Fuck, my head hurts,” he muttered after a moment.

“You whacked it pretty good on the wall,” Leonard said. “You want me to check it out?” Jim flinched noticeably at the offer, and Leonard was quick to backtrack. “Only if you want me to. You did whack it pretty hard though, so I’d prefer that you let me at least look at it.”

Jim didn’t answer, instead focusing on calming his breathing with harsh breaths through his nose. His hands travelled through his hair now, clenching and unclenching the sweaty strands of blond in rapid succession. His legs were still coiled into his body, as if ready to spring into action or flee at the drop of a hat. He glanced up at Leonard with a weary gaze until his eyes widened suddenly.

Leonard was worried he had somehow spooked Jim again until, “Shit, did I hurt you?”

He realized Jim’s gaze was on his chest, where had had been absently rubbing the spot Jim had hit. “Nah, I’m fine,” he said, dropping his hand with forced nonchalance. “I should’ve been more careful about waking you.”

“Thanks for that,” Jim muttered, diverting his eyes now. “For waking me.” Leonard felt the tension he hadn’t noticed had built up fade, knowing Jim wasn’t upset at him for waking him. “I don’t usually—I have—” Jim bit his lip in frustration, struggling to find the right words. “Just...thanks,” he said finally, seemingly unable to find the words he’d been looking for.

“Any time,” Leonard said, eyeing Jim critically. “This...this isn’t the first time, is it?” Jim shook his head silently. “I’m sorry I’ve never noticed before.”

Jim shook his head again. “‘S not your fault, I sleep silently, always have. Good dreams or bad, I rarely make a sound.”

“I almost didn’t notice this time,” Leonard admitted. “If I hadn’t been—” Leonard cut himself off with a flush. It would probably sound weird if he said he’d been watching Jim sleep—

“Aw, Bones, were you watching me sleep?” the little bastard said, tone luckily sounding more fond than mocking.

Leonard glared at him rather than answer, which drew a chuckle from Jim as he finally relaxed against the wall, looking far less skittish. He almost wanted to leave the conversation there, but he had to offer— “D’you wanna talk about it?”

Thankfully, Jim didn’t freeze up or immediately shut him out, though he did close his eyes and let out a resigned sigh. After a full minute of silence, Jim shook his head soundlessly.

“Alright,” Leonard said softly, not willing to force it. “It’s an open offer if you ever want to,” he added after a moment.

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim said, voice heavy and rough. “Really, thank you, I just...can’t do it right now.”

“Alright,” Leonard repeated with a nod. “Are you gonna try to go back to sleep?”

Jim snorted, opening his eyes again. “Not right now, I’ll probably read an article for my tactics class and try again after that.”

Leonard knew Jim well enough to know that meant he’d be up for the rest of the night. And sure enough, when Leonard woke up three hours later to get ready for his 0800 lecture, a fatigued-looking Jim Kirk sat at his desk, head propped up by his palm as he read from his PADD, looking like he hadn’t moved a muscle since Leonard had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim's sleeping experiences closely mirror my own in that I'm a very silent sleeper. I don't snore, and more relevantly I don't make a sound when I have nightmares. And I have a lot. It was highly convenient in college considering I never woke my roommate, but it's got its disadvantage in that you don't have anyone or anything to wake you up. One might ask how I know I sleep silently, and I'll say that it's a very distinct feeling waking up from a silent nightmare. My eyes will snap open, my body will feel rigid, and my breath kinda catches in my lungs. But otherwise, my blankets aren't tangled, my breathing isn't ragged at all, nothing. And I've woken up from nightmares at sleepovers when friends are already awake, and they had no idea I'd slept so badly.
> 
> 99 times out of 100 that's how my nightmares go, but there is that 1% where I have audible nightmares, and that's usually after something that's significantly affected me that day that would make the nightmare worse. This is what happened to Jim, because it was the night after April's lecture and everything was fresh in his mind. If Bones hadn't woken up Jim when he did, he would've gotten louder to the point where he would've woken himself up from his screaming. So good job, Bones.


	5. Chapter 5

While Leonard always willingly tagged along when Jim suggested they go out, it was rare that he instigated the adventure himself. And yes, getting drunk at the local bar usually turned into some sort of adventure, depending on their collective BAC.

So as Leonard waited for Jim to come back from his Ethics and Modern Applications class, he imagined Jim would be surprised, yet enthusiastic, about getting off campus for a few drinks.

Leonard didn’t have a specific reason for wanting to go out, which would probably shock Jim even more. Overall, it was a general feeling that Leonard wanted to shake. Over the past few days, his schedule had been hectic, and his classwork had been more trying than usual. His diplomacy class had been covering some heavy topics, and April’s lecture was still fresh on his mind, especially with today being the tenth anniversary of the Tarsus IV Massacre.

It all added up to Leonard needing a stiff drink or three, and he was sure Jim would heartily agree.

So when Jim arrived home with an almost visible storm cloud of doom enshrouding him, Leonard was more than shocked, to say the least.

“Was class that bad?” Leonard asked as Jim wrestled with his uniform jacket. Jim grunted noncommittally, and alarm bells went off in his head. “Something outside of class?” he prompted, but he didn’t even get a response that time.

Jim threw his jacket onto his chair, but it wasn’t fully dislodged from his body, so as he tried to move away, he stumbled as the chair came crashing down behind him. “Fuck,” Jim hissed, doubling back to get the jacket off the floor. Something on the jacket had gotten stuck on the chair, however, and Jim continued to tug, getting progressively more frustrated as time went on. Finally, Jim had enough, and he abandoned his efforts to instead wind up and land a solid kick on the chair. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, connecting and sending the chair and jacket careening into his desk.

“Woah now, kid, okay,” Leonard said quickly, getting to his feet. “I’ll take care of the chair, alright? You just focus on getting dressed and we’ll head out. First round’s on me.”

“I’m not going out,” Jim muttered, now standing motionless by his closet, hand gripping the doorway with white knuckles.

“You sure?” Leonard asked incredulously. “I think you need to get out a bit—”

“I’m not _going,_ Bones,” Jim reiterated, an unpleasant bite to his tone.

Leonard really didn’t like Jim’s attitude right now, but he wasn’t so much mad about it as he was worried. He had never seen Jim in such a volatile state before. “You alright, kid?” he asked finally, stepping towards him and moving to rest a hand on Jim’s shoulder like he had done dozens of times before.

Except this time, when Leonard’s hand made contact, Jim flinched away with a sharp, _“Don’t.”_

“Okay. Okay, Jim,” Leonard said placatingly, stepping back a bit with a hand raised slightly in surrender. “What do you need?”

Jim stood silent, staring at the wall as his body visibly trembled, hands now clenched tight into fists by his side. A tense silence filled the room until Jim finally muttered, “I need to be alone.”

Leonard eyed him critically. “I dunno if that’s—” 

_“Please,_ Bones,” Jim breathed, his voice sounding a bit pitchy as he tried to contain the emotions Leonard knew were bubbling just under the surface. 

Against his better judgement, Leonard nodded. “Alright,” he said softly, as if trying to avoid startling a frightened animal. 

He moved away slowly, all the while watching Jim as he reached for his own jacket. He wished there was something he could do for him, but he was completely blind here. He’d never dealt with this side of Jim before, and did not by any means want to make the situation worse. The best he could do right now was do what Jim had asked of him and give him some space.

“Give me a call if you need me,” Leonard tried as he hovered at the door. Jim didn’t move or even make a sound in acknowledgement. Letting out a sigh, he left Jim to the empty room and his troubled thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but necessary setup to the payoff chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Non-graphic mention of the past torture of a child and mention of suicidal thoughts in this chapter)

Leonard spent an uneventful hour at the bar, trying and failing to drink away his woes and concerns. He succeeded in taking off the edge a bit, but his thoughts kept drifting to Jim and whatever could have put him in such a state. The alcohol wasn’t helping him come up with any solid theories, so eventually he had the bartender switch him over to water and ordered some bread rolls to sober up. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking; he never should have left the dorm. Despite what Jim said, the last thing he needed was to be left alone when he clearly needed some kind of support. He may not know what was troubling Jim so much, but he could still be there for him in whatever capacity he needed. Even if that just meant sitting silently in the room.

Arriving back at the dorm, Leonard had never felt more nervous returning to his room. With the events of earlier, he had no idea what he would be walking into. The room could be trashed, furniture broken, supplies thrown everywhere—if Jim’s earlier aggression had manifested again—or Jim could still be standing where he’d been frozen when Leonard left.

Or Jim could have left the room entirely.

Regardless, Leonard had no intention of walking out again, no matter what Jim said or did.

He took a deep breath outside of the door to prepare himself for whatever he’d find on the other side, then touched his ID to the keypad and the door slid open.

The room was largely how Leonard had left it. Jim’s uniform jacket remained hanging over the chair he placed it on, still dragged away from the desk. The only change he noticed was that Jim’s red uniform shirt had been dropped in a pile on the floor.

At first glance, Jim seemed to be absent from the room, but Leonard noticed light coming from the open bathroom doorway.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to see. All he knew was that he never wanted to see it again.

Jim sat slouched on the floor of the bathroom across from the sink, back resting against the wall. He was still in his cadet slacks and boots, but only his white undershirt remained on his torso, soaked from water or sweat, Leonard didn’t know. His legs were drawn up loosely towards his chest, forearms resting on his knees. Most concerning was Jim’s face; he was ashen, eyes puffy and rimmed with red, staring blankly across the bathroom. Leonard wasn’t even sure Jim had noticed his arrival.

“Jim?” Leonard asked hesitantly. Jim made no motion to indicate that he’d heard him, so he tried again with, “Can I sit down?”

This time, Jim jerked his head with the slightest nod and Leonard let out a silent breath of relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He sat down next to Jim, careful to slow his movements and avoid touching him so he wouldn’t repeat the events of earlier. When Jim didn’t react at all, he decided to try and maybe press his luck. “Can I get closer?” he asked, giving Jim a side glance rather than pin him with a full look. Jim nodded again, and Leonard shifted over so their shoulders bumped slightly.

Before Leonard could contemplate his next move, Jim let out a quiet sigh and dropped his head onto Leonard’s shoulder. He took this as a good sign, albeit a surprising one. It meant that Jim wasn’t completely shutting him out of whatever—

“Today’s the anniversary,” Jim muttered suddenly. When Leonard remained quiet, he said, “You’re not gonna ask what of?”

“You’ll tell me if you want to,” he replied. Jim hummed vaguely but didn’t say anything else about the matter. Leonard was curious as hell, but he understood how important it was not to press right now. That didn’t stop him from trying to wrack his brain for significant events that happened today that would affect Jim so much, though the only event he knew of that qualified was Jim’s birthday, which had been in January.

“We talked about it in class today,” Jim said eventually. “It wasn’t on the syllabus so I didn’t know we’d be discussing it today of all days. At least with April I knew it was coming, I could psych myself up for it...”

Leonard felt dread ooze through him like a cold slime.

“You’ve got all the pieces, Bones,” Jim said with a sigh, shifting his head slightly so his face was hidden a little more on Leonard’s shoulder.

And he really did have all the pieces. The comment with April brought it together. Leonard had been focusing on personal anniversaries rather than Federation-wide, so the momentous day in history hadn’t registered originally. But now that it had...

Leonard wanted to hope that Jim just had family or a friend who died, but as Jim himself had said, he had all the pieces now.

Jim knew Admiral April from a time when he was a kid, when his mother had served under him and when Dr. Boyce had been on the same crew. When Dr. Boyce had treated Jim for something he was extremely reluctant to share with other medical personnel, Leonard included. That, coupled with Jim’s severe sensitivity to food...

“Jim,” Leonard’s voice cracked as a wave of despair crashed over him. Of all the things the world had put Jim Kirk through, why did this have to be one of them? No one deserved that tragedy, but especially not Jim.

“Ten years ago, today,” Jim said, and that was confirmation enough. After all, the Tarsus IV Massacre had occurred exactly ten years prior. Beyond the death of his father, Leonard had never felt so heartbroken in his life. He hardly noticed the tears on his face as Jim continued in a dead tone, “The colonists were growing restless, we hadn’t had a real meal in weeks. We were surviving off of household stores of rice mixed with melted down ration bars; it got old real fast. We thought things were finally getting better when Kodos announced that they were opening the emergency stores now that he’d gotten word to Starfleet about our situation.”

Jim had reached an arm around the front of Leonard’s waist at that point, and Leonard clung to that arm, guiltily seeking as much support as Jim needed himself right now.

“He actually followed through, too,” Jim said, voice muffled a bit by Leonard’s jacket now as his head slipped a bit from his shoulder. “With some of the colonists, at least. The morning group picked up their rations and left, no problem. I was in the afternoon group.”

Leonard could feel Jim’s Adam’s apple move against his chest as he swallowed thickly. “The only reason I’m alive today is because I was short and clumsy. The first round of phaser fire went over my head and I got knocked over before the next wave. And then I just...I was scared shitless, I couldn’t move. My friend Tom was the same way; we both passed for dead on the initial sweep. We ran after that, but not before we took as many of the kids who’d frozen just like us as we could.”

Jim paused here, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Leonard took the opportunity to take the arm pinned between his body and Jim’s and wrap it around the younger man’s shoulders, drawing him closer. Jim collapsed fully into the embrace, most of his weight on Leonard now. He didn’t mind one bit.

“The kids were too young to hunt themselves, and Tom had been injured in the initial escape, so that left me to provide for everyone. Most of the time, we barely had a single bread roll or whatever to split between the nine of us. I went without a lot of the time; it didn’t feel right to eat when you’ve got a three year old sobbing because they’re so hungry. The first couple weeks, I couldn’t stand it; I ate leather to stave the desperation to eat. I used to idly chew on it all the time, it was a weird comfort thing, but now...the taste of it just brings back all those memories and feelings.

“Eventually, my body forgot what hunger felt like, and while my body grew weaker, I wasn’t distracted by it anymore. But the kids, they were still...they still needed something. So I kept foraging.”

Jim stopped here again, and Leonard had an idea of what he was psyching himself up to say. He remembered April’s lecture after all, about the survivor who provided for others but was eventually caught and—

“You don’t have to continue, Jim,” Leonard breathed, the painful burn of bile searing the back of this throat.

“If I don’t talk about it now, I don’t think I ever will,” and damn, if Jim didn’t sound like a frightened child in that moment... He took another second, almost hiding in Leonard’s jacket now. “I got caught by one of Kodos’s patrols and brought to his compound. He...he kept telling me that the only thing preventing Starfleet from providing aid was us. Until we were out of the way, he didn’t want to chance that us _imperfections_ would benefit from relief.”

Leonard couldn’t help himself. “You are _not_ an imperfection,” he interrupted vehemently. When Jim didn’t respond, he gave him a tight squeeze. “You’re _not,_ d’you hear me?” Jim grunted vaguely, but that wasn’t enough. “Who do you trust more, Jim? Me or Kodos?”

“You,” Jim muttered promptly, but Leonard could sense this was a deep-rooted feeling that he wasn’t going to change in one sitting. He’d have to work on it. “He just kept...insisting that I was placing more value on the lives of eight kids versus four thousand people...that I was condemning all those people to death by not cooperating. But I couldn’t...”

“You weren’t making that choice, Jim,” Leonard said when Jim remained silent for a while. “Kodos could’ve made the relief request at any point, _he_ was the one leveraging lives.”

Jim nodded against him. “I know that now, but at the time, I couldn’t think straight...it got to me more than it should’ve. But I didn’t say anything, so...he tried harder to...get me to talk...” Jim was shaking now, almost vibrating against his body, and he knew that whatever happened to Jim...no good would come from talking about it.

Jim seemed to have the same idea, but almost worse, he pulled away from Leonard and started to peel his shirt off his torso.

“Jim—”

“I can’t—I can’t talk about it, but...you still deserve to know,” Jim said softly, gripping the shirt now twisted in his hands. Before he leaned forward, Leonard realized he had never seen Jim’s back before this moment. He’d been shirtless a few times before, but Jim had never turned his back to him. With whatever Jim was about to show him, he had intentionally been hiding it from him.

As Jim twisted away from him, Leonard had to call on all his years of ER experience to keep his cool. There were long hash marks of raised skin all along his back, from his shoulder to beyond his waistband, some more pronounced than others. There were also blotches of red scar tissue in various sized patches. Leonard thought he actually might have seen the edges of some of those blotches before, but without the context they hadn’t looked like more than flushed skin.

He didn’t need Jim to explain, he recognized the whip marks and both chemical and heat burns. And these were just the things left behind on his back, who knows what else could’ve been done...

Jim had been thirteen. A child.

All these years, Leonard—along with the rest of the Federation—had assumed that the Tarsus Nine were adults. To have lived that long as fugitives, it was beyond the realm of imagination to think that children could’ve managed the feat on their own. And after April’s talk, Leonard had envisioned an adult being interrogated— _tortured_ —for the location of the other survivors, not a child. Definitely not...not Jim.

Leonard had always considered Kodos to be a madman, but to torture a child— _Jim_ —just to locate eight other _children_ to _kill_ them...he was nothing short of a monster.

Even just the thought of harming a child made him sick to his stomach, but to hunt and torture—

Harm.

Leonard looked more closely at the scars, and his suspicions were confirmed.

These wounds obviously hadn’t been treated fully, but the sick part was that they _had_ been treated. Healed just enough to close the wounds, a dermal regenerator used to stem the bleeding, seal open sores, and ward off infection, but nothing more. The pain would remain—would continue—and the wounds would scar— _did_ scar—but he wouldn’t be in danger of bleeding out.

Jim’s ‘do no harm’ question suddenly made so much sense. It wasn’t until Leonard had said _‘it also means not to leave someone harmed’_ that Jim had relaxed around him.

“‘Do no harm,’” Leonard muttered quietly, tracing one of the prominent lines gently with the pad of his thumb.

Jim flinched slightly in surprise at the initial contact, then quickly relaxed. “He had someone on standby to...make sure I didn’t die before I talked,” he explained, slumping back into Leonard’s chest. Leonard wrapped both arms around him tightly, one hand drifting up to run his fingers through Jim’s hair soothingly. “When I was in Sickbay after being rescued, I was impossible to deal with. I wouldn’t let the doctors or nursing staff near me without throwing a fit. My mom wasn’t helping either,” Jim chuckled a bit. “With the doctors, I mean. She went all mama bear on them whenever she saw me getting upset.”

“Your mom was on the _Enterprise?”_ Leonard asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Jim sighed. “She didn’t even know I was there at first.”

“They didn’t tell her you were on the ship the moment they brought you aboard?”

“She didn’t know I was on _Tarsus,”_ Jim elaborated. “That’s...well, that’s its own story, Bones,” he sighed heavily. “But they didn’t tell her I was there when they brought me aboard either. No one knew who I was yet, I hadn’t told them my name and it wasn’t exactly high on their priority list to find out. I’d been going by JT on the colony, so I told them that and they didn’t push for more. My mom,” Jim paused, chuckling again. “My mom wandered into Sickbay because she sliced her hand open in Engineering and was looking for a quick regen so she could get back to work. The staff was pretty busy with us kids, so she started wandering, looking for people...it was complete chance that that she stumbled across my room.

“She...we weren’t on the best of terms,” Jim sighed, sounding regretful. “She wasn’t there much when I was a kid, and I didn’t understand that she needed to keep working to provide for us...but when Tarsus happened, it was like a fire sparked in her. All of a sudden, she was an all-star mother. And it happened at the best time possible. She took time off work and spent every available moment that she could with me, and once I’d been healed up, she convinced Starfleet to reassign her so she could remain close to me.

“But anyway, eventually one of the doctors approached me, my mother in tow, and before I could start a tantrum, he simply said _‘A real doctor would never hurt you, nor leave you in pain. If I do either of those things, I would ask that you never refer to me as a doctor again.’_ He was the only one I let near me after that.”

“Dr. Boyce,” Leonard said, and Jim nodded in confirmation.

“I think Pike put him up to it, he was one of the few who knew what happened to me and why I had such an aversion to the medical staff, so he thought he understood why I was being so defensive and passed that along to—”

“Wait, Captain Pike?”

“Well, he was a Lieutenant Commander at the time, but yeah...” Jim confirmed. “He was April’s XO.”

_‘My first officer led a team to scout Kodos’s compound...he found a prisoner…’_

“Pike found you.”

“The door opened, bright light silhouetting a figure in the doorway like a fucking angel,” Jim snorted. “At first, I thought I was hallucinating, then I thought I died...would’ve preferred that at the time, honestly...” Leonard gripped Jim closer to him as tight as the hand currently gripping his heart. “I was in a bad place, Bones, figuratively _and_ literally. I’m mostly better now, I promise.”

 _‘Mostly.’_ “You promise me you’ll come to me if you ever feel like that again,” Leonard said, voice thick with suppressed emotion.

“I promise, Bones,” Jim said, sounding almost indulging. “I’m with you now, aren’t I?”

Leonard squeezed his eyes shut. He had no idea what had possessed him to leave Jim alone that night, but he was beyond thankful to whatever made him come back. It hadn’t even been a full year at the Academy, and yet he couldn’t fathom what his life would be like without Jim in it.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Leonard said after he’d composed himself. “I’m...I hate that you lived through what you did, but Jim, I’m so happy you _lived.”_

Jim let out a content sigh, whether in response to Leonard’s words or the fingers still working in his hair, he didn’t know. Jim closed his eyes and settled against Leonard with a squeeze of his own. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he thought Jim might have fallen asleep until—

“I’m glad you’re here too, Bones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!
> 
> If you've already read the existing prank fics (particularly _All in Good Fun_ ), you'll recognize a couple parts of this chapter that were mentioned there.
> 
> If you _haven't_ read it, no spoilers from me, so that's all I'll say on the matter. Go read it now! :D
> 
> To new and old readers of the _Sorry, Not Sorry_ , keep an eye out for the third fic in the main trilogy which is currently in the works!
> 
> I'm particularly proud of this fic for whatever reason, I put a lot of work into it, so I'd appreciate any feedback you can give.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!  
> Sadie out.
> 
> (PS: Shameless request from me, but if anyone were to make a fanart from any of my fics, I would want art of Jim and Bones cuddling on the bathroom floor. JUST SAYING xD)


End file.
